


Loose Change

by MaestrotheBlue



Category: The Secret Saturdays
Genre: Discussion of Death, Gen, angsty, brief mention of abuse, but im tagging it anyway, i honestly could not be assed to proof read this, i think? I don't know if that counts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-12
Updated: 2020-05-12
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:28:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24140596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaestrotheBlue/pseuds/MaestrotheBlue
Summary: A few years after the events of the Secret Saturdays, Zak and Wadi take a moment to talk about one of Zak's old enemies in a new light.
Comments: 5
Kudos: 11





	Loose Change

The sun had just barely started to rise above the treeline when Zak started work on his major project of the day. The alarm goes off at 6:30- much too early to be up on a Sunday in Zak’s opinion, but he has to get this done early, so he’ll put up with it. Just for today. He wakes up with a gasp, bolting upright and looking straight ahead for a second to get his bearings, before scrambling to shut off the alarm before it woke anyone else up. He waits with bated breath to see if anyone’s awake- hearing only slight movement, he sighs in relief, shoving his phone in his pocket and hopping to his feet with a practiced finesse that made almost no noise- perhaps it’s not really necessary, but it’s become habit for him now.

In direct contrast to his usual fashion sense, he chooses to go out in just a plain white t-shirt and jeans. The bright colours that he usually leans into don’t… fit the occasion. Running his fingers through his hair as a rudimentary comb, he slides the closet door open, cringing slightly at the creak it makes. Not a loud sound, but not one he particularly likes. Almost as if on cue, he feels eyes on him- someone watching him, and turning around reveals no one there. “... Komodo?” He whispers cautiously, slowly sliding the closet door back as he investigates. He can’t sense Komodo, and he doubts that Komodo learned how to completely hide his presence overnight… He chalks it up to paranoia, and opens the closet door once more, this time without the accompanying creak.

It takes a second of digging to find what he’s looking for- he hid it, equal parts embarrassed and ashamed, yet too determined to give it up. A package, slightly smaller than his torso, and heavy as a rock, wrapped in burlap and secured with only about fifteen layers of duct tape. It hadn’t been disturbed, no one has found it yet. He’s not sure why he’s relieved- no one in his family would go digging through his closet, not after the Incident. He drags it out with minimal difficulty, closing the closet doors and leaning the package against the wall while he gathers his things. Keys, check, wallet, check, phone- oh right, he put it in his pajamas without thinking. Sighing a little in annoyance at his own actions, he locates the old clothes and rummages through their pockets to find… nothing.

“Looking for something?” A familiar voice chimes in behind him, causing him to jump and fall forward into the pile of clothes he’s been promising to clean for weeks now. He untangles himself from the pile and turns around, ready to fight despite knowing who the voice belongs to. Sure enough, the worst has not passed- leaning on the wall next to his little secret is Wadi, holding his phone in one hand, and resting the other on her hip.

Zak takes a moment to recover from his near heart attack before Wadi tosses the phone to him. “Uh, yeah, thanks- sorry, did I wake you up?” He puts his phone away, taking a few steps towards the package before realizing that Wadi’s standing partially in front of it, most certainly on purpose.

“Maybe,” she replies with a coy smirk, “maybe not. Now it's my turn to ask a question- what’s this?” She motions towards the burlap-wrapped mystery with her foot, raising an eyebrow. Of course she’d ask, Zak’s not entirely positive why he’d hope she wouldn’t. She’s just as nosy as she was a few years ago- most of the time an endearing trait, but now he was really wishing that she’d be literally anything else.

He sucks in air through gritted teeth, running through different answers and scenarios in his head. “... Okay, how about this- you don’t mention this to anyone, and I’ll show you what that’s for.”

Bingo- She gives it some thought for a second, then nodded. “I see you still haven’t outgrown your ‘sneaking out of the house’ phase,” she teases, and Zak sticks his tongue out at her in retaliation. “Alright, alright, you big baby.” She rolls her eyes and laughs, kneeling down to pick up the package. She struggles to lift it up, but Zak knows better than to try and take it from her before she’s ready to admit defeat. “Okay, jeez, take it- what’s in it anyway, a  _ rock? _ ”

Zak grabs the sack and carries it under his arm effortlessly, grabbing a small bag off of his nightstand with his free hand. “Maybe, maybe not. Patience, young padawan.”

She lightly punches him in the arm. “That isn’t the quote and you know it,” she corrects, before leaving the room, Zak laughing as he exits behind her. “Where are you taking that thing anyway?”  
Zak’s happy-go-lucky act drops slightly at the question. “... You’ll see.” Wadi sobers up a little herself, starting to grow a little concerned. She’s only seen Zak this… gloomy a few times. Though she can’t particularly blame him- after… everything that happened with the Secret Scientists, being stationed at their core HQ must be anxiety inducing as hell for Zak. He’s uncomfortable as it is being around most of them, even his own parents when they’re in business mode.

The pair exit the airship in silence, Zak pausing just outside the exit to adjust his eyes to the relative lack of light outside. The quiet unnerves Wadi. “You know, as pretty as the sunrise is, I think I prefer the sunset,” she comments, watching the sun rise above the trees. If Zak doesn’t want to talk about his errand, she won’t force him to.

“Yeah, the sunrise just hurts to look at after a while, doesn’t it?” Zak seems grateful for the change in topic.

“That’s why you look at the sky around it, not the actual sun, you doofus.” Zak lightly elbows her in response to the remark, which she swiftly returns. It gets a small smile out of him, before he starts to walk again, motioning for Wadi to follow him. As if she was going to do anything else, she’s  _ dying _ to know what’s in the burlap.

The Secret Scientist complex is surprisingly simple, for such a large and well-funded organization (especially one full of such drama queens). From what Wadi’s heard about it, though, it isn’t used much, just for formalities and as an office for the paper pushers, so it makes sense that it isn’t particularly fancy. It’s got a nice and shiny futuristic vibe to it that Wadi can’t help but think looks like the architecture plans got mixed up with someone’s geometry homework.

The path that Zak takes doesn’t appear to be one often used, leading away from the heart of the complex. Compared to the nice, clean paving of most of the paths, this one’s crumbling away, making way for weeds to start growing through the path. She’s less concerned about the potential for sprained ankles, though- what’s really concerning her is the metaphorical cloud that seems to be surrounding Zak. She flat out hasn’t ever seen him this glum before, and she doesn’t like it, but… would speaking up make things worse? Better? She considers herself fairly good at reading people, but Zak will always remain a mystery to her.

Before long, the trees on either side of them part to reveal their destination- a wrought iron archway welcomes them into a decently sized clearing simply marked with the word ‘memorial’, engraved into the wooden sign on the arch and then further accented with metal plating. She can’t help a quiet ‘oh’ as she puts two and two together and realizes what’s probably in the bag.

“Not exactly the happiest place here, but… welcome to the memorial.” Zak says with a softness in his voice, a soft fondness that she knows he only uses when referring to the dead. Perhaps it’s a bit selfish of her, but she had hoped to never have to hear that tone again, not after all of the death that Zak already had to deal with. “Not really a graveyard- no one’s actually buried here.” He takes a few steps in, looking around. “No one really wants to be buried here, and… a disturbing number of people don’t end up with bodies intact enough  _ to _ be buried.” He casts a sad glance at a few of the nearby graves, before walking a path through the memorial that Wadi can tell he’s walked many times before. They stop near the side of the clearing, in front of a joint grave.

“... Your grandparents?” Wadi asks, only recognizing the last name on the grave. Zak nods, and rummages through his pockets, pulling out a handful of loose change. Wadi watches with curiosity as he isolates a penny from the pile, and places it gently on the grave, before he moves on. “Why’d you put money on the grave?”

Zak just shrugs. “It’s… been an old tradition, whenever me and my parents would visit here. We’d do it once a year, but… it’s been a few years.” He pauses at a junction in the path, looking at the coins in his hand. “It started in the military, but it’s also become a bit of a scientists tradition as well.” He puts the coins back in his pocket for now. “A penny just means you visited the grave, and a nickel means that you were trained together. A dime means that you served together, and a quarter means that you were there when they died.” Now that Zak drew her attention to it, she notices quite a few other graves with coins on top of them. A small part of her gut is tempted to swipe them… but she can’t bring herself to.

The next grave is much larger than the rest, a large block on the side of the memorial with more names than Wadi cares to count on it. “This one’s for all of the scientists that died in the first Weird World invasion.” Once more, Zak places a penny on top of the grave, next to two dimes and a quarter. Wadi can’t help but feel slightly upset, both about the sheer number of names on the memorial and the coins on top. She can’t imagine what it’d be like to have so many of the people you work with, your friends, die all at once, let alone what it’d be like to be there. 

Their next destination is a more empty part of the lot- Wadi can’t help but notice that almost all of the graves here are missing the titles that the rest have, but Zak answers her question before she can even ask it. “These graves are for people who weren’t really members of the secret scientists, but who deserved to be given the respect of one anyway.” There are very few graves here, and Zak’s destination seems to be the final one- Leonidas Van Rook. He sadly puts a quarter on top of the grave, and then, crouches down next to it. She slowly nods- so her suspicions were right, it was meant to be an… offering, she believes they’re called? Gift? Offering seems much too formal, and gift seems much too casual- Donation. From what she knows about Van Rook, that’s the term he’d appreciate the most anyway.

However, instead of just placing the package down, Zak starts to clear away dirt, digging a small trench in the ground. She opens her mouth to ask what he’s doing, but once again, her unspoken question is answered. Is he doing this on purpose? He grabs the package, and attempts to rip the duct tape, before giving up and just using a pocket knife to cut them away. He unwraps what appears to just be a giant rock, and slots it into the hole he made in the ground, packing the dirt back up around it to keep it from falling over.

Wadi kneels down beside him and reads what appears to have been engraved by hand into the grave. “... Zak Monday?” The name confuses her, but it seems familiar… “Isn’t that your evil clone?”

Zak shakes his head in response. “Sorta-evil twin from another dimension.” Wadi isn’t entirely positive if the difference is important. “He…” Zak sighs, and curls his knees up to his chest, sitting in front of the grave. “... You put a quarter down when you were there when they died, but… what do you put down when you basically are the person that died?” It’s both a sad joke, and a legitimate question. Zak apparently decides on two quarters, one stacked on top of the other.

This time, the unspoken question isn’t from Wadi, but from Zak. Why? He doesn’t seem to know the answer himself, not really, but he tries to come up with an excuse anyway. “He… this isn’t official, and it’s probably gonna be removed, but…” Tears begin to well up in Zak’s eyes, and his voice cracks. “Even if he wasn’t from this world, and even if he was… sorta a little evil, he didn’t deserve to die, and…” The tears begin to fall down Zak’s cheeks, and he starts to shake. Cautiously, Wadi puts a hand on his back, between his shoulder blades, a gesture that seems to help, at least a little. “It was all my fault, it was  _ my _ fault he’s dead- he was only thirteen! He was  _ only thirteen _ !” Zak’s crying in full force now, and Wadi’s not entirely positive what to say. Perhaps it’s best to not say anything. “He was only thirteen,” he repeats, quieter this time, “and he- this wasn’t his conflict, it was never his conflict, he shouldn’t have had to been dragged in! He… he wasn’t even evil, he was just- he was upset! His world had mistreated him for so long, and he lashed out, and--” And if he had been in the same situation… he’d have done the same thing. But he can’t bring himself to say it.

Even more cautiously than before, Wadi offers a hug, and Zak collapses into it without hesitation, full blown sobbing now. Wadi holds him tightly, murmuring reassurances as a reminder that she’s still there. And who knows if she’s right. Who knows if everything’s going to be okay? Wadi certainly doesn’t. But she does know that Zak would happily go to the ends of the earth to help her- and if necessary, she fully intends to do the same.


End file.
